


Made with Love

by lumenera



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Is this a quarantine fic?, It's be nice to your beta day, M/M, Maybe? no clue, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25179892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenera/pseuds/lumenera
Summary: “Tsumu was gripin’ about how Onigiri Miya doesn’t offer anything sweet the other day. I told him he was bein’ an idiot, but mochiisa Japanese staple. And, I know you like it.”Osamu makes mochi.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 126





	Made with Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sandollar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandollar/gifts).



> Ella!! My lovely beta, who is also tired of me writing angst, this one is for you, even though you've already read it.

“Whatcha doing?” Keiji walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Osamu’s torso as he stood at the kitchen counter, different ingredients in front of him. Osamu poured sugar and rice flour into a bowl, then added water, whisking the mixture in quick, practiced motions.

“I see you finally made it out of your office,” Osamu leaned to the side to let Keiji kiss his cheek. “Thought I’d try my hand at mochi again.”

“Mochi? Sounds delicious.”

“Tsumu was gripin’ about how Onigiri Miya doesn’t offer anything sweet the other day. I told him he was bein’ an idiot, but mochi _is_ a Japanese staple. And, I know you like it.”

“What flavor?”

“I’m making sesame and matcha.”

“Ooh.” Keiji nodded appreciatively. Osamu grinned, giving the bowl one last whisk. He set the bowl in a steamer pot, turning on the stove. “I’ve always wondered how they make it.”

“It’s not too hard, surprisingly. I’ve done it before, but that was in high school, and ‘Tsumu ate the mochi and the ice cream before I had the chance to put ‘em together.”

Keiji laughed. “Sounds like Atsumu.”

Osamu dusted the countertop with potato starch. Then, he unlocked his phone, swiping down for his recipe, leaving a trail of white powder over his screen while giving his dough a couple whisks every now and then. He patted down the starch, making an even covering over the counter. The stove timer rang, and Osamu donned gloves as he lifted the bowl out of the steamer. He gave the mixture a few more whisks, then upturned the bowl, letting the dough fall onto the starch, scraping out the last bits. He placed his gloves off to the side.

“Keiji, can you get me a rolling pin?”

“Sure.” Keiji pulled open the drawer and pulled out a rolling pin, handing him the end.

“Thank you.” Osamu took the rolling pin and covered it with starch as well before sprinkling some over the rest of the dough. For good measure, he tapped Keiji on the nose, leaving behind a smear of white powder.

“Osamu,” Keiji said slowly.

“What?” Osamu replied, the picture of innocence.

Keiji gave him a wry look before taking a pinch of starch and flicking it onto Osamu’s shirt.

“Keiji!”

“That’s what you get for not wearing an apron.”

Osamu pouted at him. Keiji reached for the dough, but Osamu swatted his hand away with the rolling pin. “No. You can eat it later.”

Keiji held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’ll go back to the office.”

“No, stay. I feel like I don’t get to see you enough, ‘cause you spend all yer time in the office. Your deadlines can wait.” Osamu grasped his hand, lifting it in the air. The metal band glinted in the light. “I’m yer husband, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

Osamu began rolling out the dough, adding more starch as he went. Then, he reached for a knife and his parchment paper stencil, cutting out eight circles. He gave them another layer of starch to prevent sticking, then put the circles in the fridge. Keiji started placing the dishes in the sink.

“Osamu, I’ll do the dishes.”

“No, I’ll do them.” Osamu waved him off, despite Keiji’s protests. “Get yer edits and come back out here. Keep me company, will ya?”

In his office, Keiji gathered up his papers and plucked his favorite pen from the cup. When he returned to the kitchen, Osamu was finishing up the dishes. Keiji sat down at the table and uncapped his pen. Osamu joined him not long after, pulling up a chair.

“What’s this one about?” Osamu leaned over, resting his chin on Keiji’s shoulder.

“A boy’s volleyball team trying to make it to nationals, but they don’t have a coach.”

“Really? Reminds me of the good ‘ol days.”

“Osamu, we’re not that old.”

“Well, we’re both working adults with jobs. High school seems like forever ago.”

Keiji made one last final note about consistency of the panels before flipping the page. Osamu read over his shoulder, making little comments here and there.

“Who’s your mangaka again?”

“Udai Tenma.”

“Oh, yeah. He went to Karasuno, didn’t he?”

“He’s Hinata’s Little Giant.”

Osamu whistled. “He should’ve gone pro, then, instead of becomin’ a manga writer.”

“He’s happy with what he does, though. Let him be.”

Osamu sat there until his timer went off again and retrieved the mochi rounds from the fridge. He took out the ice cream mold, setting it on the countertop. Keiji watched as he placed a half-dome of ice cream on each circle, then stretched the dough all the way around so it covered the ice cream entirely. Then, he put plastic wrap around the finished product. Keiji clapped. Osamu managed to get through all four of the sesame ones before the matcha started to thaw.

“Ugh ugh ugh _ugh,_ ” Osamu grimaced, his hands sticky with melting ice cream.

Keiji smiled, shaking his head. “Looking at you, one would think that you didn’t cook for a living.”

“I run an _onigiri_ shop,” Osamu grumbled good naturedly. “This is _mochi._ ”

“You still have to wrap both of them,” Keiji pointed out.

“Yeah, well, onigiri doesn’t melt in yer hands. Here.” He thrust the wrapped mochi into Keiji’s hands. “Put ‘em in the freezer before they melt.”

Keiji ferried the mochi from the counter to the freezer as Osamu finished sealing the edges, taking two at a time until all of them were safely tucked away.

Osamu exhaled a breath, running his hands under the sink. “That’s done. Now I wonder if ‘Tsumu was doing me a favor when he ate ‘em the first time.”

“It’s worth the reward, though.”

“That it is. I’ll get started on dinner.” He dried his hands, then gave Keiji a peck on the cheek. “Do good work, darlin’.”

Keiji returned to the table as Osamu bustled about the kitchen, opening cabinets and retrieving ingredients. He marked the team’s rotation, noting that their captain was supposed to be in the front row, instead of the back row and that he’d given their libero the wrong color of jersey. He made it through roughly a good twenty pages before Osamu pushed Keiji’s papers to the side and set down a bowl of noodles in front of him, slices of chashu arranged on the side and a garnish of scallions on top.

“Udon noodles?” Keiji inhaled the scent of warm broth, his mouth watering. “You’re going to spoil me.”

“What if I want to?” Osamu said slyly.

Keiji ducked his head. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Aw, lookatcha. Yer blushin’ really badly.”

Keiji groaned, putting his face in his hands, voice muffled. “ _Osamu._ ”

“Just teasin’, you know that.” Osamu took a seat at the table with his own bowl of udon. “Itadakimasu.”

“Itadakimasu.” Keiji took his chopsticks and started eating. He lifted the bowl to his mouth and drank the broth, letting it warm him from the inside out, sighing contentedly. They finished their meal in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Afterwards, Keiji insisted on doing the dishes this time, and Osamu cleared the table.

“Good as always, Osamu.”

“Well, what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t cook well?”

“Do you want me to answer that?” Keiji said cheekily. Osamu pouted at him. “Just kidding, I’d love you regardless. Always.”

Osamu stretched out his hand. “Then, my darlin’ Keiji, may I have this dance?”

Keiji took it, and together, they swayed back and forth to imaginary music, foreheads touching. Osamu gave him a twirl, and together, they took three steps forward, then three steps backward. They gazed into each other’s eyes, neither willing to be the first to look away. Keiji bumped into the kitchen counter.

“Oh, sorry. You alright?” Osamu put his arm out, steadying him. Keiji latched onto his arm.

“I’m fine. It didn’t hurt.”

“Maybe we should save the dancing for another time, then.” He took his phone out of his pocket. “Do you wanna get the mochi out to defrost? I just remembered that I hafta ask Kita-san something about the next shipment he’s sendin’ up.”

Keiji opened the freezer and selected two--one matcha for Osamu, and one sesame for him. He set them on the counter before refilling his glass with water. Osamu tucked his phone away, unwrapping the desserts before handing Keiji his.

“Enjoy.”

Keiji took a bite, closing his eyes. He savored the cold sweetness, and how the mochi and sesame ice cream balanced each other out, neither overpowering the other. “Marry me.”

“Darlin’, we’re already married.” Osamu smirked. “Is it really that delicious?”

“Marry me again. Anything you make will always be delicious.” 

“Such high praise,” Osamu laughed softly and kissed him, his lips tasting of sugar and green tea.

**Miya Keiji** @miya_keiji  
Osamu made mochi @ _miyaosamu__  
[Pic]

_Replying to @miya_keiji_ **  
** **ATSUMU** @miyaatsumu_msby  
‘samu why wont you make me any @ _miyaosamu__

 _Replying to @miyaatsumu_msby_  
**Miya Osamu** @miyaosamu_  
no

_Replying to @miya_keiji_  
**Hinata Shouyou** @ninjashouyou _  
_ they look lovely !!

 _Replying to @ninjashouyou_  
**Miya Osamu** @miyaosamu_  
thanks hinata. at least there’s one decent member of the jackals

**Author's Note:**

> Two bros, chilling in the kitchen, no feet apart 'cause they're very gay(And married). Hugs. Lots of hugs. Get yourself a boy that can cook like Miya Osamu.  
>   
> Atsumu, having a crisis: why can't my relationships be like this  
> Osamu: Because no one loves you
> 
> come yell about osaaka with me on [tumblr](https//:lumenera.tumblr.com) (@lumenera), I don't bite I promise <3


End file.
